In My Eyes
by Adagio To A Wolf
Summary: The amazing team of Lioness's Heart and Lady Wolf bring you "In My Eyes" a two shot, pulling from the journals of Rosto the Piper, King of the Rogue, and Beka Cooper, Terrier and Bloodhound of the Provosts Guard.
1. Chapter 1: In Her Eyes

Excerpt from the Journal of Rosto the Piper

King of the Court of the Rogue. The Lower City. Corus.

July 8, 247

Written at the Court of the Rogue, late afternoon

Here I am, sitting on my hard-won throne, but not as the Rogue. Just as Rosto. To think, a few years ago I never would have dreamed that this is where I'd end up – King of the Rogue, in love with a Lower City Dog. A few years ago I never would have even envisioned what was to come, or who I would become. I've changed since I came from Scanra. I've changed alot. Back then, I wasn't two different people, and yet, the same person. I was just Rosto the Piper. Now, I'm the Rogue, the King of Thieves.

The battle at Port Caynn is still so fresh in my memory, it seems like yesterday, though it's more than two weeks past. That battle changed everything, and I know it. It showed me more of who I am than anything else has. It's shown me that I am not just Rosto anymore. I knew this before, but it was never so pronounced. When I'm the Rogue, I'm a different person, literally. Rosto doesn't control my emotions or what I do. Rosto isn't there. It's the Rogue, there's no denying it. There are things I wouldn't do as the Rogue that I would, as the Piper. I've never seen myself as such a different person before. The Rogue is almost entirely unforgiving. He won't take no as an answer if there's something he wants.

How is it that I'm just now noticing this? I share the same body, the same flesh, with this Rogue, and I don't even really know who he is. I don't think we're even the same person. I knew a few months ago that I changed when I was acting as the Rogue, that I was all business and no play during Court. I see things differently when I'm the Rogue. It worries me that I even see Beka differently. When I'm the Rogue, I couldn't care less if she lived or died. I'd even kill her myself if she stilled my hand on a matter. I just can't control myself. I can feel the shift in who I am every time I'm at the Court. The shift is easy now. I don't even have to think. That worries me even more. What if the Rogue starts taking over who I am? What if I lose Rosto for a moment when I'm with Beka, and I say or do something I regret? What if I became the Rogue completely? Rosto would disappear then, forever. I just know it. If I lost myself to the Rogue entirely, there would be no turning back. Even Aniki and Kora would hate me. Even Beka. Especially Beka.

Who is this man I become? He's so cold, so heartless. I think back to Port Caynn, and I know. I could have killed her, when she stilled my hand with Breno. I could have killed her when she apologized to the Rogue for that. If I could kill sweet, shy Beka when he takes over, what else could I do? I can't control it. I can't even do anything to try to stop it. He's as much part of me now as my love for Beka is. We're two sides of the same coin. Two people in one person. I don't like this. Not at all. And I don't think I ever will…And the only way I can get rid of the Rogue would be if I walked away. That's something I cannot do. I can't walk away from the Court of the Rogue; it's who I am now. I can't step down without losing my life. Even if I wanted to I couldn't. I've doomed myself to one fate. I've doomed myself to die at the blades of another who thinks that they can run the Rogue better than I can. I can only hope that that day is a long time in coming. I don't want to lose the time I have with any of the people I consider friends, especially Beka.

The Rogue has a quarrel with all and any Dogs that want to take issue with the way he runs things. He and Guardswoman Cooper have as many quarrels as Aniki does with her as Queen of the Ladies of the Rogue. Yet, when we're not Rogue and Dog, Beka and I have less trouble than I have with water.

I wonder how it is in her eyes, my being both Rosto, and the Rogue…I don't know this person, the Rogue. Who is he, really? How can he be so cold and uncaring? How is it that he would kill Beka, my Beka?

Written after Court

This was a harrowing evening. I was challenged for my throne. It wasn't my first challenge, but it's the first since I got back from Port Caynn, and the first I've had in a long time. It was also the one I came closest to losing.

It started out normal, the usual beginning of Court, up until the Dogs came to collect the Happy Bags. It was Beka and Tunstall who came. They alternate the Happy Bags between them and Goodwin and Ersken. So, almost as soon as they came in, some young cove from Prettybone district comes up to the dais without permission. He looked to be about fifteen or so, he had reddish-brown hair and green eyes. He didn't seem dangerous, at first glance, but I know better.

"A challenge for your throne, Majesty." That was when the Rogue just took over. I nodded to the lad, rising from my throne. "As challenged, I pick weapons and set the rules. Daggers and hand to hand, no Shang fighting," I heard myself say. It was like I was seeing it from outside. He nodded and backed off of the dais. I stretched leisurely, my eyes scanning the crowd. Beka and Tunstall were speaking in hushed whispers, she looked nearly frantic. She must have seen the Rogue in my eyes, because she looked away when I looked at her.

Unlike the cove, I left my boots on, but shed my outer blue-violet silk shirt in favor of the sleeveless black one I wore under it. I pulled a dagger from my belt, and waited for my challenger to initiate the attack. After a moment, he surged in, slashing his dagger at my throat. That's the oldest trick in the book. I ducked and brought my own blade up under his guard. He knocked my blow away, and slashed at my arm. It was a well-aimed slash, else it wouldn't have caught me. Fire erupted from the place where his dagger had sliced my skin. I danced away, checking the extent of my wound quickly before flicking another dagger out of a wrist sheath, which was in plain sight without the silk shirt. I threw it at him, aiming for his shoulder. He moved slightly, but not enough to get out of the way entirely, as he thought he had. The sharp edge of the dagger clipped his shoulder, and he yelped.

He rushed in, letting his temper get the better of him. I was lucky in that regard, that I was able to keep my head in battle. I stepped out of the way, and he ran right into a table. Dripping from the ale and other liquids that had slopped all over him, he rose, his expression furious. He rushed in again, and did something I wasn't expecting – he punched me. I reeled back, throwing my dagger up in defense. I could feel my eye swelling already. Before I had a chance to recover, he surged toward me again. Had I not caught his, he might have thrust the blade into my heart. We grappled for a moment, before he knocked my feet out from under me. We fell to the ground, while he struggled to get his wrist free. His weight on top of me made it harder. The way we'd fallen, his wrist had jerked and the blade had made a gash over my good eye. He could see that I was winning in our struggle, and frantically searched for a way to kill me. Using all of his strength, he drove his dagger toward my throat, wanting to end it while he could. He got close, too close for comfort. As a last attempt, I jerked my own wrist out of his grip and dashed the hilt of my dagger against his chin. Before he passed out, he slashed at my throat, knowing that it was his last chance for life.

He missed, but not by much. The blade edge sliced a deep slit running along my collarbone. After just a second, he passed out on top of me; I used a leg to lever him off, and tried to get up. The room spun when I got to my feet. I couldn't see because of the swelling in my left eye and the blood that dripped from above my right eye. I was lightheaded, but I knew I had to finish what I had started, and get out of there before I blacked out. I bent down and cut the cove's throat, though I regretted it. I hate wasting perfectly good rushers, and killing someone, even when I have to. There are rules to being the Rogue. If you defeat a challenger, you have to kill him or her, just like they have to kill you if they want to be the Rogue. It's a sad fact in the Court, but it's just the way it goes.

Everyone stood frozen as I staggered back to the dais. "Aniki, take over. I've got to go to a healer," I said. She nodded, but didn't move from her seat. Even Aniki knows better than to sit in my throne, though she is Queen of the Rogue.

I took a deep breath before I started for the door. When I was nearly there, I felt a soft hand on my arm. I couldn't see who it was between the fact that my eye was swollen shut at this point, and my vision was almost completely obscured by the blood. I shook the hand away, muttering something like "Get away, doxy," under my breath so that only the woman could hear me. I wiped the blood from my eye only to see that it was Beka. I could feel the Rogue slipping back into the shadows as our eyes met. Hers had turned into pools of ice. We stared at each other for a moment before spots started swimming in my vision. I nearly blacked out, then. "I'm sorry, Beka," I whispered before I managed to stumble out of the Dancing Dove. The only reason I'm still alive to write this is that there is a healer that lives close to my inn. I managed to get there quickly, considering the way I felt. The healer opened the door before I had knocked twice. I almost passed out against the doorframe, but, thankfully, I managed not to. The healer was a young woman, as most of the Lower City healers are. She helped me to one of the rooms where healers do their healings - whatever they call them. After just a moment, her fingers glowed a pale gold as she called on her magic. Her cool fingers ran along the cuts on my arm and collarbone. The release from the pain was a relief, even more so when she healed the black eye. I stopped her for a moment before she healed the cut on my forehead. "Let it leave a scar."

She laughed. "Every time you've come to me for a healing, you've come out of it with a scar, Rosto the Piper. You are so vain." She did as I told her to, though. Admittedly, she has a point. I do have my vanity…

I did go back to Court after that, but only briefly. I couldn't concentrate on anything, and I didn't feel well at all. My head throbbed, and I felt like I was going to throw up. I never do feel well after a healing. I think another reason was that I felt guilt about what I said to Beka. I didn't mean to, I didn't know it was her…

I left after a little bit, and came back here. The headache I had is mostly gone, and my stomach has quieted, but I still feel bad. I can only hope that she'll forgive me. I hope Beka will forgive me. I hope Beka is in there somewhere, and not Guardswoman Cooper. I heard her on the steps a few moments ago. I'm going to go apologize again. Maybe she'll forgive me…


	2. Chapter 2: In His Eyes

Being an Excerpt from the Journal of REBAKAH COOPER

Provost's Guardswoman, the Lower City. Corus.

July 8, 247

I've not written a while acos I've been getting used to walking my Watch in Corus again. It's odd. Every night, I start my watch with Goodwin, which is good, because I get her when it's not so bad. Then, she and I have lunch with Tunstall and Ersken at the Sunlight and Shadow (which is a new favorite place for Dogs on the Night Watch). Sometimes we walk as a team of four for about an hour other times, we swap partners right after we finish dinner. Then I finish my Watch with Tunstall. Which is interesting, because it forces him to be the serious one and me to be the 'nice partner.' It makes Tunstall grumble. Whereas, he's all camaraderie with Ersken. Ersken tells me Goodwin's usually right sour after dinner, because she'd rather let her food digest, and not go around chasing Rats.

I've been getting used to it though. That first week back, all four of us went to go collect the Happy Bag. The week after, Tunstall and Ersken did it before dinner. Then Goodwin and Ersken did it after dinner last week. This week, it's me and Tunstall getting the Happy Bag, after dinner. Boy, is going home to go to court a mess. One time I ran upstairs and when I came back down I was surrounded by Rushers. Kora had to make 'em go away and leave me be. Rosto (he wasn't being the Rogue at the time) told them I lived upstairs and that they were right to keep their eyes peeled, but should use their brains too. "If no one is up there, what does it matter if the Young Dog goes to her room? Or into anyone's room for that matter?"

Well, like I was saying. This week Tunstall and I get the Happy Bag, and that was tonight. The walk there was normal and quiet. Tunstall had his eyes peeled, but was asking about the cook we (read: Rosto) hired for The Dancing Dove. It's nice to know the tavern has a name, but its still odd. Oh, pox, where was I again? I swear, I'm starting to sound like Tunstall. Right, Tunstall was chatting, but his eyes was peeled. I was listening to him chatter, but I had my magic ears on alert, being as I wanted to be able to hear any violence on the air.

Since it's high summer, the door to The Dancing Dove, is propped open, but there's always a Rusher sitting by it. Tonight it was Bold Brian, whom I greeted with a nod. Being as I was Guardswoman Cooper at the time. Tunstall always gives me looks when he and I are near Rosto/The Rogue. I think he's picked up that I'm different when I'm Beka and when I'm Guardswoman Cooper. We stroll in and there's Rosto sitting on his throne. It really is a comfortable chair. I sat in it once when he wasn't there. But that's aside from the point.

Just as soon as we walk in, some young cove from another district comes up to the dais without permission. Ideally, we as DOGS, should have been the first to approach the Throne of the King of the Court of the Rogue, being as we have a standing appointment with him every week. But, like I said, this lad came up, without permission. He looked to be about fifteen or so, which was rather young to be a Rat. Most Rushers wait till they've had their full growth before they attempt becoming thugs. He had reddish-brown hair and green eyes.

Just as I'm watching, I see Rosto's eyes flash from Rosto to Rogue and I know violence is about to break out. "A challenge for your throne, Majesty." Says the lad, calm as you please. Like he was asking about the weather, not picking a fight with a hardened Rusher like the Rogue.

The Rogue (for it wasn't Rosto anymore) nodded and stood, gracefully standing from his Throne. "As challenged, I pick weapons and set the rules. Daggers and hand to hand, no Shang fighting," the Rogue says, stretching leisurely, his eyes scanning the crowd.

"I hear the lad's a strong fighter. He was taught since he was young to handle a dagger. His da' was a Rusher under Kayfer. Very good." Tunstall murmurs in my ear. Kayfer was known to be brutal once. But Kayfer is dead. And by the sound of it, so is the lads da'. But that don't mean the lad ain't good. I can see his muscles and his daggers under his tunic and summer leggings. When I look back, I see the Rogue watching me. I remember that I am Guardswoman Cooper. You care who is the Rogue. But you don't care about him. Let's see how the lad does. I look away, feigning boredom.

The Rogue and the young cove prepared to do battle, a few Rushers clearing out a space in the middle of the floor. Tunstall and I took a seat near the door. Unlike the cove, the Rogue left his boots on, but shed his outer blue-violet silk shirt in favor of the sleeveless black one he wore under it. He pulled a dagger from his belt, and waited for his challenger to initiate the attack. After a moment, the challenger surged in, slashing his dagger at the Rogue's throat.

The Rogue ducked and brought his own blade up under his opponents guard. The red-head knocked the Rogue's blow away, and slashed at his arm. Blood started to pour from the place where his dagger had sliced the ivory cream skin of the Rogue. The Rogue (ye gods, I'm so tempted to just call him Rosto, but I know it ain't him who's fighting!) The Rogue, skirts sideways, checking the wound quickly before flicking another dagger out of a wrist sheath, which was in plain sight without the silk shirt. With a sharp flick of the wrist, the Rogue sends the dagger flying towards the red-heads shoulder.

The red head dodged, but not fast enough to get completely out of the blades way. The sharp edge of the dagger clipped his shoulder, and he yelped. I know how sharp those daggers are. I sharpened half of them myself. Not that I sharpened them for the Rogue. But for Rosto. Oh, pox, forget trying to explain it. I get it. I think.

Anyways, I wasn't Beka, I was Guardswoman Cooper, and all I could remember, was eyeing the two men, and observing who was the better fighter in terms of skill and form. The Rogue, obviously. But that's because the Rogue not only has years on the younger red-head, but also he's got moves hidden up his sleeve. Moves he showed off once before when he thought no one was watching.

The red-head rushed in, letting his temper get the better of him. The Rogue, keeping his head, stepped out of the way, and Red ran right into a table. That made a few folk mad, being as he'd rammed straight into their ale and wine. Red rushed in again, anger flaming on his face. The Rogue was far too relaxed and didn't expect Red to come at him with a fist instead of a dagger. E slugged him, punching him hard. The Rogue reeled back, throwing his dagger up as a shield.

Before the Rogue had a chance to recover, Red surged toward him again. The Rogue grabbed his dagger before it plunged into his heart. Oh Gods! Rosto be careful! Beka squealed somewhere in the back of my mind. They grappled for a moment and Red knocked the Rogue's feet out from under him. They fell to the ground, the red-head on top, his blade jerking dangerously close to the Rogue's eye, making it start bleeding.

As a last attempt the Rogue jerks his wrist free, sending the pommel of his dagger into the Red-heads chin, in an almost perfect nap-tap. Right at that moment, the red head lunges with his blade towards the Rogue's throat, narrowly missing his jugular, but still getting a good amount of blood in the meantime. The lad passes out from the nap-tap, and the Rogue gets up. After weaving on the spot for a moment, the Rogue glances at Tunstall, who turns his gaze away, and then the Rogue (I can't believe Rosto would be so uncouth, I can't) And then the Rogue slits the lads throat, killing him instantly.

The Rogue staggers back to the dais. "Aniki, take over. I've got to go to a healer," he murmurs She nods, but doesn't move from her seat. Even Aniki knows better than to sit in Rosto's throne, though she is Queen of the Rogue.

"Pox. I was hoping to deal with HIS majesty. Not Aniki. She's a tough mot and a pinchpenny if I've ever seen one." Grumbles Tunstall, getting to his feet. I follow him to a standing position and Rosto passes me, as I'm by the door. He stumbles a bit and Beka (not solid, uncaring, Guardswoman Cooper) but I as Beka, reach out a hand to help him stand.

"Get away, doxy," he mutters at me, and I jerk my hand back. He wipes up a bit of the blood from his eyes, and I can feel my mind slip back to Guardswoman Cooper. I know my eyes are pools of ice, the kind that make most folk shiver and look away. We stared at each other for a moment, and then he mumbles, so only I can hear: "I'm sorry, Beka." Then walks unsteadily out the door.

As Beka, I guess it's safe to say that I wasn't really mad. Not really. Rosto knows that I'm not really a Doxy. And he wouldn't call me that, not on purpose. But I can't help feeling insulted by it, as Guardswoman Cooper. No one calls a Dog a Doxy. Not even the Rogue. He'll have some explaining to do, as Rosto or as the Rogue, either way, if he wants to get back in my good graces.

We get the Happy Bag from Aniki, and I let Tunstall handle it. Being as he's been doing it for a while and being as The Queen of the Rogue doesn't really like Guardswoman Cooper. Oy, what a mess. While they are negotiating, I watch as two Rushers carry the lads body away. I don't even know his name. I wonder if they'll leave him for his mother to find, or just dump him in the Olorun. I dunno which is worse. Still, I say a prayer for the lads soul. Being one of those who serve the Black God, I find its my duty to beg the God to help the red-heads soul find peace. A mot Rosto's hired as an in-house cleaning woman, comes in with a mop and a bucket of water. First Cold, to lift the blood away then hot, to sterilize the floor. Rosto's floors are polished so shiny, very little blood manages to seep into them. Just a little between the cracks. Still, it's the first blood spilled in the Dancing Dove.

After that, we hand over the Happy Bag, finish out our watch, and meet Goodwin in the Cesspool. She's got a band of robbers, only about five, in her hobbles, and Ersken is chasing down another. I hare after them, running to help Ersken. We hand over all five men to the Cage-Dogs. All in all a usual evening. We muster out and I'm achingly tired. It wasn't a hard evening, not physically, just mentally. Beka was battling Guardswoman Cooper the whole time The Rogue was battling Red. When I come back, all I can hear in my mind, is my Beka half grumbling about a nice quick wash and a soft bed.

Just as I'm finishing with my washing and I'm about to sit down and write this, there's a knock on my door. I know that knock. Rosto. Very well. What does the master Rat want now?

"Of what service can i be for you, master Rogue? Or are you Rosto now?" I know my words are mean, and they cut him. I can see the hurt in his eyes. He's already gone back to being Rosto. But I need to remind him of what he said. I am not a Doxy. Nor will I take being called one.

He winces, remembering his words and says, "I guess I shouldn't have called you a Doxy." 

"No I guess not." I tell him coldly. He's standing at the door and I'm observing his wounds under my lashes. I'm not letting him in. "You don't have to insult Guardswoman Cooper to let folk know you don't like her. Ignoring her works just as well."

"Well. I try not to insult Guardswoman Cooper, being as she's got this creepy eyes that belong on a ghost or sommat. They just give me the willies. But in all honesty, love, I dinna realize it was you, being as I had a river of blood pooling down my face." He responds.

I melt some when he calls me 'love.' Which he really shouldn't do, being as I'm still talking for Guardswoman Cooper. I give him a look that says 'that's no excuse' and look away. Miffed.

He touches my chin and turns my face to look at his. "I'm sorry. Even if the Rogue isn't." Which is about as much apology as he's gonna give me. And about all the apology Beka needs. Though Guardswoman Goodwin is in the back of my mind muttering something about 'reparations' and 'honor-killings.' His apology is followed by and uncomfortable moment of silence, as I let his apology sink in.

Being as I don't want to let him in just yet, until I'm completely Beka in my mind, I take another good look at him. He's got a new scar. The scamp. He's going to ruin his face with those scars. I reach up and touch the scar on the side of his face. "The Rogue is ruining Rosto's good looks" I murmur and I can see his eyes twinkle. Laugh at me, well here's sommat to laugh at for you. " And his good hardwood floors." I add with mischief. He winces at that.

"Aw, Beka. Can't you be nice to a cove who just had to fight for his life? I could use some comforting, not criticism." He says with a cute whine, trying to nudge his way through the door. I let him in. Just because, he's all Rosto, and I'm all Beka.

"Yes. You poor lad. You just had a healing so you must be grumpy and tired. Go and lay on my bed. Spending the night at my side will make you feel better, just like it did in Port Caynn." I tell him, giving him a motherly nudge toward my mattress

"We didn't have much fun in your bed when I was hurt in Port Caynn." He's grumbling, acos he seems to know we ain't going to Canoodle. Which we ain't. Being as we're both tired and grumbly from today. Which really has been a long day.

"Some other night Rosto. You need to rest to help your body heal. And I'm Dog-tired." I tell him with a sigh, sitting down to write all this. And he's been watching me while I write. I know it's Rosto, acos I can see it in his eyes.

I always have to watch Rosto's eyes when we talk. Whether it's me as Guardswoman Cooper or as Beka. Sometimes his eyes will tell me Rosto. Sometimes his eyes will tell me Rogue.

I wonder if he does the same thing. Does he know when he speaks with Guardswoman Cooper versus Beka, just by looking at my eyes? Do they go ice hard? Do they freeze him? Make him shiver with fear? When he's a Rogue, does he view me as a threat, just by looking at my eyes? Can the Rogue tell when he's speaking with Beka? I know he's not the same when he's the Rogue. He'd kill Guardswoman Cooper. Would I respond with equal violence toward him? And if Beka, not Guardswoman Cooper, but Beka begged him to stay his hand, would he do it? Would Rosto hear my plea and force the Rogue to mercy?

And when Rosto looks at Beka? When he looks into my Beka eyes, what does he see? Does he see how much I care about him? How much I love him? How much I despise the Rogue but Love Rosto?

He's right there. I could just ask him. Cracknob that I am. I won't. We've had this discussion. I, Beka Cooper, love Rosto. Beka fears the Rogue. Guardswoman Cooper sees Rosto as an informant and the Rogue as someone whose throat she'd like to set her teeth into and shake him senseless. And I know how both Rosto and the Rogue feel about me as Beka and Guardswoman Cooper. What a horrible mess of feelings. Oh this is all so confusing.

Rosto is looking at me. His eyes, his Rosto eyes, are warm and tender and inviting. I give him a look that's equally warm and (I hope) just a little bit sultry. He is in my bed after all and we're both in our summer sleeping clothes. I think tonight it's time to cuddle and make his bruises feel better. No canoodling. We're both too tired for it. But Cuddling should be alright.


End file.
